Cornhuskers. 1918.
#Americans
RED drips from my chin where I h… Not all the blood, nowhere near al… Clots of red mess my hair And the tiger, the buffalo, know h… I was a killer.
There was a woman tore off a red v… And slashed the white skin of her… And a crimson zigzag wrote a finge… There was a woman spoke six short… And quit a life that was old to he…
SMOKE of the fields in spring is… Smoke of the leaves in autumn anot… Smoke of a steel-mill roof or a ba… They all go up in a line with a sm… Or they twist … in the slow twist…
A STONE face higher than six ho… years gazing at the world seeming… A boy passes and throws a niggerhe… end of the nose from the stone fac… mud ball that spatters the right e…
This town belongs to the Dead, to the Dead and to the Wilderness. Back of the clamps on a fireproof door they hold the papers of the Dead in a house here And when two living men fall ou...
The haggard woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white flowers... in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the w...
THEN came, Oscar, the time of th… And there was no land for a man, n… Unless guns sprang up And spoke their language. The how of running the world was a…
Mary has a thingamajig clamped on… And sits all day taking plugs out… Flashes and flashes—voies and voic… calling for ears to put words in Faces at the ends of wires asking…
I will read ashes for you, if you… I will look on the fire and tell y… And out of the red and black tongu… I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea.
HOG Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with Railroads and the Nat… Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders:
There is a wolf in me . . . fangs… tongue for raw meat. . . and the h… this wolf because the wilderness g… will not let it go. There is a fox in me. . . a silver…
REMEMBRANCE for a great man i… The newsies are pitching pennies. And on the copper disk is the man’… Dead lover of boys, what do you as…
NEITHER rose leaves gathered in… Cinders-these-hissing in a marl an…
BETWEEN two hills The old town stands. The houses loom And the roofs and trees And the dusk and the dark,
JOHN BROWN’S body under the m… Six feet of dust under the morning… And a panorama of war performs its… Over the six-foot stage of circlin… Room for Gettysburg, Wilderness,…